


Thank you but Im sorry

by Arrysa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Fourth Year, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7271674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrysa/pseuds/Arrysa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His Harry remained beautiful even in his eternal sleep. And he had come up with a good decision after a dawning realization.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank you but Im sorry

**Author's Note:**

> This is my **first fanfiction** written for this fandom so be good to me thus read and review please. And this is likely my first time on writing a slash fic that isn’t non-con so.. I don’t really know if I did any good so please review. This is written in a span of few hours so I apologize for my hastiness. And lastly this is **Unbetaed** and English ain’t my mother tongue.  
>  **Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, I don’t wanna be sued if I tell otherwise (or other fans trying to murder me for claiming something they adore, greatly XD)

**Thank you but I'm sorry**

He would be the Dark Lord.

He smirked, his crimson like blood colored lips curled upward into a small satisfied cruel smile, his eyes gleaming with certain glee and mockery.

There was no one who could stand against him aside from the blasted old codger Albus too-many-names-in-between Dumbledore. Even the thought of that old fool make him want to crucio anyone he set his eyes upon, aside from a certain teen.

It was partially a good thing, his followers slash classmates know when not to show themselves when their Lord was in one of this mood. If only it was the same with that brat, Harry James. Why he called him a brat when he was actually younger than Harry was because Harry was so childish, so naïve, and so different.

"Tom!" He paused from his musing when a certain green-eyed teen came into view and called him that damning name. That damned brat never obey him, always calling him that oh-so-normal muggle name he hated with such fiery passion aside when Harry says it with his beautiful lips.

He lifted his brow in acknowledgement of Harry's presence yet didn't say anything merely looked at the other expectantly.

"Hey! Tom, I got an Outstanding at a potion essay!" Harry grinned as if it was the happiest thing that happened in his entire life as he waved his essay result like a trophy.

He snorted to himself as if it was no big deal and to stop himself from looking more intently on Harry's bright grinning face because it would be immature to ogle at Harry. He wouldn't act like a lovesick fool – which admittedly he actually was.

Harry immediately crossed his arms then said in a sarcastic mocking tone, "Of course it is nothing compared to the _Tom Riddle_." Harry drawled his name for emphasize that made him curl his lips upward into a smirk then said in a grateful tone while he gives Harry a mocking look. "Oh why, thank you, Harry."

That made Harry huff in retaliation, his cheeks tinted slightly by a light blush. He distractedly thought that this kind of expression of Harry was for him, _his_. He couldn't stop looking away from Harry's face in a sort of possessive way.

Harry shuffled on his feet nervously, while trying not to look at him. However, he could see the way Harry's eyes dart from one place to another then to him. Harry was completely acting like a love struck embarrassed puppy and he felt a sort of giddy reaction because he could make Harry behave like this. A total opposite of Harry's Gryffindorish bravado that always see things with brash and headstrong personality.

He slowly lifted his right hand to reach out Harry's left cheek, as he stood up. At first, Harry was startled of the touch and then he started to relax. Even if Harry was older than him. He was taller than the scrawny teen by an inch. Harry was petite and even if Harry didn't say anything why, the hints were there. Those muggles who raised Harry hurt him would pay, no one hurts what was his and Harry is _his_. He immediately locked down his anger and focused more on Harry.

"Harry." He whispered Harry's name in a soft alluring voice and knew the effect instantly. Harry's pupil dilated and the slight blush from earlier have grown deeper. _Harry is mesmerizing_ , he thought hungrily, then there was those butterfly effect on his stomach making his heart skips a bit. He slowly traces his index finger on Harry's supple cheek ever slowly in a rather suggestive way.

"Tom..." Harry whispered slightly pleading and he knew that Harry was using that tone to crack his self-control. It made him proud that Harry was starting to get a backbone on manipulating other people yet they both knew that it wouldn't work on him.

"Really, Harry…" He said slowly his voice oozing satisfaction and now his index finger traced over Harry's slightly parted lips. He deliberately paused and now he gazed at Harry's parted lips that looked inviting. He wanted to ravish the young man. And ravished Harry will be… later. He saw Harry's tongue slip from its place to lick his own lips nervously, Harry's tongue almost touched his index finger, _almost_.

Harry was deliberately provoking him.

His lips curled upward in a smirk, his eyes gleaming with playfulness. "Harry. So eager." He let his words rang as he took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Harry reached on his collar, tightening his hand around it and pulling him even closer. "So bold too..." He added in a whisper, his other hand now circling around Harry's waist pulling him closer.

"Tom." Harry whispered on a heavy breath then slowly pleaded, "Please..."

He hummed and gazed at Harry eyes, showing his hunger, his possessiveness then said. "Pleading is unbecoming, Harry." Before Harry could protest, his hand was already on Harry's chin and he pulled him into a possessive, domineering, and ravenous kiss.

* * *

 

There was a soft laboured breathing next to him, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling in satisfaction. It was a wondrous feeling, to sleep with Harry, as the young man clung to him in his sleep.

He had been dating Harry for about six months already. It had been six months when Harry confessed his feelings for him. And it felt like yesterday when his fascination over Harry had grown into possessiveness.

He slowly reached his hand to caress Harry's forehead, to part his messy hair, then slowly caress Harry's lightning bolt-shaped cursed scar. It was fascinating. Harry never told him how he got this cursed scar. Always saying that it was in an accident but he wouldn't tell any other details as for how exactly that occurred, only shrugging. It made him want to know more. Harry's mystery was what has actually pulled him towards the older teen.

There are also other fascinating mysteries surrounding Harry's whole identity. First of foremost was that cursed scar, most likely he had gotten it from a dark curse. Harry hadn't exactly told him about his family but he knew Harry was an orphan and an abused child base on those hideous scars littered on his petite and skinny body. Harry was tortured as well due to the worded scar on Harry's hand. He just knew that those illegal blood quills were used on Harry, that's where he got those _I must not tell lies_ scar. Lastly, Harry's transferral into Hogwarts.

Who transfer into Hogwarts with only one remaining year in schooling? Obviously no other than Harry James. Harry was also in friendly term with Albus Dumbledore even if Harry being a Gryffindor was the reason there was just something in Dumbledore eyes when he look at Harry. It was if they are old friends and something more profound.

Harry suddenly shifted on his arm that made him stop his musing and made him continue caressing Harry's parted hair covering his eyes.

He wanted to unravel Harry's mystery yet he knew his possessiveness over Harry was not only for that.

* * *

 

Harry had been acting strange lately. It wasn't obvious at first but gradually it became. Harry would often seek his touch, Harry would escape any kind of probing and Harry would stay more after class, to meet with no other than Albus too-many-names Dumbledore. There was also those looks Dumbledore keep giving Harry, those he couldn't identify earlier yet now he could. It was pity and now resignation.

What does Dumbledore knew about Harry? What are they actually discussing about? It honestly made him curious because he could use any information that Harry must have from Dumbledore but it also made him want to grab Harry, to force Harry away from the old meddling fool.

When he made a slight unnoticeable probing on Harry about Dumbledore and his strange actions, Harry laughed nervously and he could see that the answer were rehearsed.

" _It was because I'll be finishing my seventh year soon and I don't want to… you know be separated from you."_

Despite the words making him satisfied, ecstatic even, because it was indicated as if the thought of leaving him behind frightens Harry, it was actually wasn't only that. _Harry, what are you hiding?_ he couldn't help but think that.

* * *

 

Harry was in the infirmary. When he arrived, Dumbledore was there about to leave, that's when Dumbledore saw him, nodded in acknowledgement then said to Harry. "Take care then, Harry." Harry smiled at him for a second before turning to face Dumbledore as he answered. "Thank you, professor." Dumbledore gave Harry a searching look then let out a tight smile as if in resignation before leaving.

Despite the short words and action exchange between them, it felt like there was an underlying tension. Could it possible mean that Harry was distrusting Dumbledore? He immediately squashed any smug smile from his face but from the pointed look, Harry was giving him. Harry knew what he was thinking. However, he ignored it.

"How are you?" He asked Harry after he sat on a chair next to the bed as he gave Harry's condition a look.

Harry was pale, and he had a dark bags under his eyes. When did Harry become like this? Harry was looking fine this morning and the day before too albeit he slightly look sleepy this morning…

_Glamour._

He fisted his right hand into a tight ball when he realized that then glared at Harry for not telling him.

Harry ignored his glare, and he scowled because of it. "You wouldn't be sick like this if only you told me this morning." He stated, anger visible on his tone of voice and all Harry did was stare at him with an apologetic look on his face. Blatantly ignoring his statement, Harry answered his first question. "I'm fine now, they already gave me potion and all I need is rest so I would be alright by tomorrow."

Forcing himself not to sigh in annoyance or anything out of character, he merely shook his head in exasperation albeit slightly at that. His anger dissipating but he wouldn't let him off the hook. Harry could have collapse on a place where there was no one. Harry could have collapse while on the stair, or Harry could have collapse while riding a broom. There are too many what-if's but the main core was that Harry was being a total fool of not telling him or anyone about his health and instead continued with his classes and practices.

It was a good thing that Harry collapsed after riding a broom because if before that, he would tie Harry on a bed after he healed to prevent this fool to do something so foolish, so Gryffindorish – even if Harry was sorted in that despicable house as a proof.

"I should tie you on the bed after you pulled a stunt like that… but I wouldn't." He stated. The appeal of tying Harry on the bed became endearing. Harry stared at him with scrutiny then he muttered. "Tom, you're showing your sadistic streak." Voice laced with disgust but there was a slight blush on his cheeks.

He smirked and he gazed at Harry hungrily as he said with a husky, seductive voice. "Yet you want it." Harry's blush became deeper followed by an indignant protest of, "I'm not!"

He continued smirking, feeling satisfied and happy at Harry's embarrassment.

After few minutes, the school mediwitch had come to tell him he had to go. He reluctantly would do so but when Harry protested vehemently, he fully decided that he would stay with Harry for this night, school infirmary or not. Harry seemed to need him, after all.

The mediwitch reluctantly agreed when he inputted that he would take care of Harry and Harry pleaded to let him stay for this night. Before the mediwitch leave, she gave Harry a pained tight smile and a nod. Which he found odd.

When he woke up the next morning, he felt his sore neck after sleeping on a chair while holding Harry's hand. His lover had fallen asleep the night before and eventually he drifted to sleep without letting Harry's hand go. He suddenly felt that he was holding something cold, immediately alarm bells rang on his head.

He was supposed to be holding Harry's hand, did he let go of Harry's hand then? He wondered on what he was holding but it felt and formed like a hand. He slowly opened his hand and saw that, yes he was still holding Harry's hand, much to his relief. However, his relief was cut short.

_Harry's hand felt cold._

In an instant, he turned rather sharply at Harry's face and he saw Harry, still looking beautiful like a sleeping angel.

He grasped Harry's hand tightly and the coldness he felt at the tight contact made his eyes widen. _There was no warmth_. He couldn't feel any warmth from Harry's hand aside from the same coldness. He felt dread at the pit of his stomach, coiling in a tight suffocating hold.

He reached for Harry's cheeks with his other hand and immediately jerked because it was cold. Cold as ice, cold just like the dead rabbit he hung on the orphanage.

 _Nonono_ …

There was the sound of the door opening followed by footsteps. And an abrupt stop.

The school mediwitch swished her wand and muttered diagnostic spells and there was different colors as a result. She continued those spells and when she stop, he turned to look at her then said, slowly, frostily, "Why did you stop?"

The mediwitch stared at him then at Harry then finally at him again. She opened her mouth but closed it. She inhaled as if building up all the tension from her body and when she exhaled, it felt like she let go of all the tension. She looked at him again, but now her eyes was looking apologetic, pained, and she shook her head.

It could mean that she didn't know what happened. He could think of it that way but he knew the way her eyes looks resigned, her lips pulled downward into a pained look and the way her hand loosely enclosed on her wand. It was a sign that, she meant… gone.

 _Nonono_ _**!** _

Then she whispered softly, "I'm sorry."

He couldn't believe it. Harry was sleeping peacefully the night before! Harry was holding his hand tightly, gripping it yesterday even if Harry was gripping at it tightly- desperately...

The dread he felt on his stomach grew worse. The beating of his heart, became frantic and loud to his ears.

He stared at the mediwitch with different emotion he couldn't, wouldn't, comprehend. Then he thought of the way she looked at Harry yesterday before leaving made him squint his eyes. He looked at her accusingly and he could feel a bubbling hatred, twisting his inside.

He suddenly remembered Dumbledore's pitying look from previous days then resigned look from yesterday. He could feel his ire bubbling on his skin, ready to unleash.

_They knew!_

He glared at the mediwitch and he could feel his shackle raising. But he forced himself and turned back to look at Harry's form. Harry, his lover, looked as if he was merely sleeping. Inwardly, a bitter thought rang onto his mind, _Harry is really sleeping but it is an eternal sleep._

_("Tom.." Harry murmured slowly then Harry hold onto his hand. He raised his eyebrow in question. Harry was acting strange._

" _Harry?" He voiced casually as if stating the weather but there was an underlying worry on his voice. Harry stared at him then Harry smiled as he said, "Tom." His voice never wavered like the blinding rays of the sun, forever illuminating. He couldn't stop feeling the warm fuzzy feeling squirming inside him. "What is it, Harry?" He inquired softly, he couldn't stop looking at his lover with eyes full of love._

_Harry paused as if contemplating his words but the pause only happened for few brief seconds. However, it was still a pause and he immediately noticed that. Harry shook his head then continued smiling – no Harry continued grinning at him then said, "I love saying your name."_

_He paused because Harry just uttered a confession in a casual way. Foolish boy. But he couldn't stop the fond smile forming on his lips so he let it go. He smiled, a bright sunny smile then said, "I love you too, Harry." And Harry looked at him. Harry stared at him with his own idiotic grin then laughed loudly, happily._

_Those booming laughter became gradual sob. Harry was sobbing, and failing to get rid of the tears and snot as he pathetically wiped those with the back of his hand as he continued sobbing._

_He was startled. Ever since they started dating, he never saw Harry cry like this, never. It had taken him aback._

" _Harry?" He stand up, and then he was bending next to Harry, holding Harry's arm, stopping Harry from using it to wipe his face. He used his other hand and gripped Harry's chin and then lifted it up to peer at Harry's face._

_Red rimmed puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, bottom lips slightly swollen from being bitten to held back sob._

" _Harry..." He murmured softly because he didn't know what to say. The sight of crying Harry had rendered him speechless. He didn't know what to do in this kind of situation because he never thought that this would happen. Someone important that he had felt the need to do this._

 _Harry needed him and he didn't know how to comfort him. Instead he did what he could, acted the way he always acted. Because, someone had dared to hurt what was_ his _._

" _Tell me Harry who hurt you and I will kill them." He stated with conviction as he stared at Harry's eyes, a promise of murder towards the cause of Harry's pain behind his gaze. He intently peered on Harry's eyes but Harry merely stared back then sighed. Harry took a deep breath then said, "No one did, Tom." Then Harry chuckled, the notion slightly forced, he noted. He knew because Harry have slightly averted his gaze when he let out those forced chuckle and lie. "I was crying because I am happy, idiot."_

" _I don't believe you." He stated angrily and he tightened his grip on Harry's chin. Harry raised his eyebrow, the motion was pathetic at best because of his crying face. However, it ticked him off the wrong way, how Harry would continue lying to him when they both knew that lying to him was useless._

" _Fine but it is the truth." Harry said with finality then huffed and pulled away from his grip._

" _Huh? That crying made me suddenly tired." Harry added in afterthought as if in dismissal of the previous discussion. He felt Harry's hand gripped his hand even as his lover closed his eyes, intertwining both of their hands. Despite of Harry's lies, Harry's action was always truthful and always with the sense of rightness to it._

" _Don't let go, until I fell asleep, Tom." Harry pleaded which is wrong. It made him feel and know that Harry desperately needed him by his side. It was flattering and it made his love towards his Harry grew._

_At the same time, he wanted to force Harry to answer but he wouldn't, not yet._

" _I will Harry even if forever." He answered truthfully with a sense of finality._

" _Thank you, Tom," Harry smiled with his eyes closed, his voice lower this time. Harry was slowly falling asleep, then he squeezed his hold on Harry's hand and gradually he slowly fall asleep, planning to follow his lover in dreamland. Before he could completely succumb on the darkness of his sleep, he heard Harry's voice._

" _Tom, I'm sorry too." He wanted to rouse himself from his near-sleep state to demand answer but it felt like all the energies were siphoned from his body and he fell into a distressed sleep.)_

"You!" He snarled. He wanted to curse the woman in front of him.

"You knew! Tell me!" He angrily spat, his non-wand arm holding onto his wand, pointing it at the mediwitch in anger and warning. He wanted to violently hurt her.

"Now, now, there is no need for violence, Tom." A placating voice coming from the door said and he whirled to face that person, knowing that it was no other than Albus too-many-fucking-name Dumbledore.

He saw Dumbledore on the door and he stared hard and angry with the professor. However, he reluctantly put back his wand on his holster. It would do no good to keep pointing it to anyone right now, it would make them suspicious of him and he couldn't have that now. He would have to go somewhere secluded to kill something or _someone_ because the pain he felt on his heart was almost overbearing. However, he couldn't wrap his mind around the thought that Harry, his lover, _his_ Harry _is_ … He inwardly snarled.

 _Harry didn't die. He did! Then… WHY_ _**?!** _

He stared at Harry's sleeping face with eyes and face full of grief, of anger, of every emotion that he couldn't identify the proper name of, at that moment. He closed his eyes painfully before turning to Dumbledore, there was something hard in his eyes. And finally to the mediwitch.

"Tell me." He said. His voice rang loudly in the confine of the silent room. "Tell me." He repeated but there was a hint of plea on his voice.

Dumbledore regarded him with a contemplative look but he remained silent. It was the mediwitch that started to talk after she stared at Harry's sleeping figure.

It was enlightening in a horrified, shocking way that made his blood boil. He wanted to utterly mangle and violently torture someone. The pain he felt clawing on his ribcage… he wanted to howl in anguish because of it.

And Harry James died on their seventh month of being together.

* * *

 

They didn't cremate Harry's body, they buried him and it was a normal affair. No extravagant mourning of many people, instead it was hushed like Harry's death was supposed to be a secret, which was not far from the truth because Harry illness was a secret.

After all of it, he idle wondered why Harry didn't tell him anything. Why Harry didn't tell him that he was dying or maybe Harry did when he fell asleep that night on the infirmary, when he heard Harry's apology.

He dug his nails against his palm, surely creating crescent moon formed scrap wound as he continued gripping his hand into a ball.

He wouldn't cry, all he wanted was to scream and let the world know of his pain.

He didn't want to cry due to the fact it was for the weak. And he _is_ not. However, he couldn't stop the lone tear to fell from his eyes. He vowed as the tear cascaded onto his cheeks that love was for the weak. It caused great powerful men, like him, to shed a tear and he couldn't, wouldn't, have that.

Harry's existence in his life, the emotions and feelings Harry evoked on him, his feelings for the older teen and his primal desire to have Harry was a weakness. Now that, Harry was gone, died at a very young age in the blink of an eye, he realized that mortality was also a weakness.

Harry thought him a great lesson in life.

And he realized that his _love_ for Harry was a weakness he had to bury down the pile of the earth. He couldn't, wouldn't, have let his emotional attachment to Harry render him as a weak man. He would be great and powerful.

Dying wasn't an option. Only weak people die, that's why Harry died. However, he wouldn't die. He would show the world how great he _is_ , that the world would tremble at his mere presence.

He would not die. He'll make sure of that. He would be the Greatest Wizards Of All.

He would attain immortality and transcend into something much more than a phony human that needed emotional attachment.

He would be immortal. Even death would fear him.

Thus starting on his fifth year he would embark on opening the Chamber of Secret that he had found while he was _mourning_ over Harry's death.

He would start by eradicating those filthy disgusting _muggles_ that only knew of cruelty to any magicals. To start with his brilliant plan, he would have to eradicate those muggleborns soiling the Hogwarts ground and spreading their barbaric way of muggle living.

There was no one to stop him, not even Dumbledore could, only Harry but Harry was nowhere.

 _**H**_ _arry is dead. He is_ _**not** _ _coming back_ _**.** _

He would be the Dark Lord Voldemort and no one can stop him.

_**fin** _

**Author's Note:**

> I took down the sidefic because I am going to rewrite it.  
>  **Kindly leave comment and kudos.**


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